Dogs

Dogs are pretty thick. Oh, they’re adorable and cute and they’re great for cuddles, but when it comes to intellect they have all the brains of a particularly confused four – year – old. This doesn’t appear to be something that improves with age either; the old dog is just as dim as the young dog. Maybe the young dog is following the example of the old dog, who knows?

All this week and last week we’ve been visiting my aunt who has two dogs. And every time we walked through the door the dogs got more and more excited, until today they reached a peak of exhilaration and sheer terror that led them to run around in circles barking and getting in the way of the cutlery drawer.

The situation was only worsened by the introduction of a third dog.

Meanwhile the cat roamed about, inciting terror in the ranks and generally getting underfoot at the worst of moments.

It would seem that the horror of people arriving pales in comparison to the horror of people leaving; after my aunt and mum went out to get something from the car, Giant Dog and Tiny Dog were inconsolable in their grief. This wouldn’t be so bad if their chief way to express grief wasn’t to leap at the nearest human and make increasingly sad noises.

I suppose the moral of the story is this: never leave or enter a house containing dogs. Or, alternatively, you could simply try buying a dog instead.

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